


Talk A While

by Rainah (RainahFiclets)



Series: Lonely 'verse [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex (sort of), sexy pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainahFiclets/pseuds/Rainah
Summary: Alex can't find his work pants, but Pierre has better things to do





	

**Author's Note:**

> OK so there's been no fic for a little bit bc I had a very ill cat. She is now stable, so I"m working to get everything done. Starting with the last request I got for LJLM
> 
> Anon requested some happy Pierre/Friedrich. I started writing that, but angst crept in... so that's getting shelved and I wrote this instead. Enjoy some grumpy Alex and happy Pierre. Takes place somewhere around chapter 8 of LJLM (So, the near future)

_From: Alex  
Have u seen my hooker pants_

_From: Pierre_  
_No????_  
_Have you looked under the bed?_

_From: Alex_  
_Yes_  
_Also the dust bunnies are starting to breed down there_

_From: Pierre_  
_By the sofa?_  
_The bathroom?_  
_The apartment isn’t exactly large_

_From: Alex  
Do I look like someone who leaves my pants on the sofa_

_From: Pierre  
Actually_

_From: Alex  
Don’t answer that_

_From: Pierre  
Have you looked at John’s house?_

Of all the little- Alex shoots his phone a dirty look, then presses “call”. He's not in the mood for jokes right now.

 _“Alex?”_ Pierre’s voice on the other end is scratchy, as if their connection’s bad. Alex scowls as he paces their cramped living room – he really doesn’t have money to replace the phone right now.

And if he doesn’t find his damn pants soon, he’s going to have even less money. “Come on Pierre, I know you’ve seen them somewhere. Where are my pants.”

_“What on earth makes you think I keep track of where you leave your pants?”_

“I don’t know." He runs a hand through his hair, then curses as he realizes he just ruined his hair. "You always seem to know where my glasses are.”

 _“That’s because most of the time you’re looking for them, they’re on your face. Honestly,”_ Pierre breaks off with a sigh. _“I’d lend you mine if you had a chance of fitting in them. Just wear something else, you’re – mmmmm”_

“Pierre?” Alex asks suspiciously. There’s no reply, just the unmistakable sounds of a languid kiss. “Seriously?! You’re talking to me while kissing your sugar daddy?”

There’s something that sounds an awful lot like Pierre moaning, then Friedrich’s voice saying into the phone, _“Hello Alex. I do concur with my little dove here, you’ll do fine with whatever you choose to wear. You are, I believe the phrase is, hot as balls.”_

“Thank you Friedrich,” Alex grumbles, because he swears he can still hear breathy little moans in the background of the call. “But I was talking to Pierre. I really need to get to work.”

_“If you wanted, you could join us here as your work-”_

“Not interested.” Alex cuts him off. They’ve been through this a thousand times. Friedrich only wants long term arrangements, the kind that require far more effort than Alex is willing to give. It's too _personal_ with Friedrich, and Alex needs anything but. Besides, now that John-

Well. he doesn't want to think about John right now. Especially if he’s going to work tonight. “Pass the phone back,” He says instead.

_“Little dove, someone wants to talk to you”_

_”Alex can screw right off”_

_”I offered that, he declined. Take the phone.”_

Pierre’s voice again, this time petulant. _“I don’t know why you insist on ruining my vacation with long distance calls-”_

“What do you mean long distance?” Last he checked Friedrich lives in Brooklyn, not New Jersey.

 _“I’m spending the weekend with Friedrich in Miami. He has an apartment here.”_ There’s the sound of another kiss, and Pierre continues, _“On the beach... and in some amazing restaurants... and the sunsets over the water…”_ The next kiss he hears is even slower, and accompanied by clothes rustling.

By now Alex is outright glaring at his phone. “Fine. Tell your sugar daddy he’s paying my phone bill then. I’m hanging up now.”

_”God, Friedrich,”_

Alex hangs up without waiting any longer for a goodbye.

Dammit. He still doesn’t have his pants. Time to make do.

As he slashes some appealing rips in his next-tightest pair of pants, he adds it to the bill he’s sending Friedrich. If the guy can afford Miami, he can afford to get Alex a new pair of jeans.

(Maria calls the next day to remind him that he left his pants in her bed. Her husband is _decidedly_ unamused, which Alex considers the only upside.)

And life goes on.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, tumblr is [here](thellamaduo.tumblr.com). The next chapter of LJLM is 3/4 done, if you want to ask me about that, or just chat me up in general. I'm grade A Hamiltrash.
> 
> test


End file.
